


Calibration

by screamlet



Series: A Question of Science [2]
Category: Star Trek (2009)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Same-Sex Marriage, Secret Marriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-08-15
Updated: 2009-08-15
Packaged: 2017-10-04 15:37:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/screamlet/pseuds/screamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>That follow up to "A Question of Science" I wouldn't think about until it was all I could think about [though it doesn't particularly need that as a lead in]; in which there is bonding and adjusting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calibration

Kirk and Spock were sitting on biobeds opposite each other in sickbay. McCoy finished running his tricorder over Spock and turned it off. "Okay, that's the last set of readings I need from you." McCoy put the tricorder aside and put his hands in his pockets. "Now tell me the risks to Jim. And you."

"In discussing the matter with my father, he mentioned only intense disorientation for the initial period immediately after the bond has formed," Spock replied. "Humans do not train their minds as we do for the compartmentalization of separate consciousnesses, which is essentially what a mind meld and the permanent bond are."

"Separate consciousnesses?" McCoy asked.

"There are faint links in my mind to others," Spock said. "I am biologically connected to my father and was to my mother; there is also the literal collective consciousness that unites every Vulcan. I also had a link to the woman I was arranged to marry, a link formed in childhood that was severed upon her death."

"And I'd be one more in there," Kirk said. "And my mind would have to shift to accommodate you and... _everything_ in your mind."

"I have no direct experience with this type of bond, the closest Vulcans ever form in their lives," Spock replied. "But my father has indicated that because it is a prolonged one, maintained for years and not seconds, it is very little like a mind meld except in the literal joining of minds. Melds would become easier and less taxing on each other, but we would not be perpetually in that state of mental interchange."

Kirk looked to McCoy and really, really had no words. He was grateful for having McCoy there, his human touchstone when things got a little too _everything_ with Spock.

"And if it doesn't work?" McCoy asked. "Say one of you wants out," he clarified. "Vulcan divorce. Or hell, what if he can't take it? What if your mother was the exception and this just isn't going to fly with Jim's biology?"

"Then you must take us to New Vulcan and have an elder dissolve the connection," Spock said. "My father's contact information is in the ship's databanks should something go amiss." 

McCoy crossed his arms over his chest and stepped between both their biobeds. "Do I need to provide some last minute pre-marriage counseling? Have you two actually _talked_ about this?"

"There's a reason New Vulcan doesn't have all-night wedding chapels, Bones, and it's not because they don't like Elvis," Kirk laughed. "Yeah, we talked about it. I'm excited."

"Jim," McCoy began, "You're saying you're excited, not showing it, so I'm a little hesitant to believe you." He paused and added, "But you're probably respecting my gag reflex when it comes to the two of you being _adorable_, so I take that back."

Kirk grinned at them both and let his feet swing back and forth under the biobed.

"Does this mean you're making it public to the crew?" McCoy asked.

"Absolutely not," Kirk replied with a shake of his head, his feet still swinging carelessly.

"Hardly seems like a marriage then," McCoy said.

"We are hardly your usual pair, human _or_ Vulcan," Spock said.

"So I should make my best man speech now while we're still alone here," McCoy said. "I _am_ your best man, aren't I?"

"Only because Uhura would probably say no," Kirk said with a smirk.

"In _that_ case." McCoy walked behind Kirk and put two hands firmly on his shoulders, his eyes meeting Spock's as he spoke. "So Jim's gone through three phases in his life: first, there was Iowa, when I hear he was arrested every week, drunk every night, and probably screwing livestock more often than that."

"Hey!" Kirk tried to shrug off McCoy's hands, but McCoy held on.

"Then there was Starfleet," McCoy continued with a sigh. "San Francisco is short on farms, so that's a plus; arrests were down to zero, imagine that. And drinking... well, it's hard to let go of so many good habits at once, am I right?" Kirk laughed and looked at Spock, who was listening to McCoy with an expression of rapt attention that gave him a glimpse of Spock the genius who flew through Starfleet and now, strangely enough, gave McCoy's story of Kirk the attention usually reserved for calculating the mass of planets for fun.

"And then he met you, Spock," McCoy said. "Now, drinking's down to a hobby, the sheep of the galaxy are safe, and if our boy's court-martialed, it's for something too noble to be mentioned in decent company." McCoy rubbed Kirk's shoulders exactly once and leaned forward to look at his face. "It's not that you're a better man -- you've _always_ been a good one at heart, have been every day I've known you. And I know you're not bonded yet, but you've had Spock in your head for years now, and having someone that _isn't_ Jim Kirk to think of has made you -- well. Obviously less of a liability, and less of a stupid fucking child."

"Ugh, jeez Bones, I hope I'm not actually that boring," Kirk replied.

"You are," Spock assured him. "In these matters, there is no accounting for taste."

"And _you_!" McCoy shouted. "He's got you making _jokes_!" He leaned in close to Kirk's ear and said, loud enough for Spock to hear, "Stick with him and maybe one day, they'll actually be good."

"That was beautiful, Bones," Kirk said as he gripped McCoy's arm. "So let's set some dates and get some fucking _leave_."

*

It took all of Kirk's energy to focus and moan the words: "Now. Now, Spock, do it now, do it _now_". The fluidity of their minds in the meld was too much and Kirk pressed his forehead with more force into Spock's hand, whispering the word "now" when he could remember to.

Then Kirk stopped. Something somewhere had shifted and he opened his eyes to look at Spock next to him. Spock's eyes were still closed and his breathing was labored, the tenuous fingers he used to perform a meld flat against Kirk's face in a caress -- but the meld was still intact.

Not only intact --

"I'm gonna hurl," Kirk said. He jumped out of bed and away from Spock, closed his eyes to avoid the sensation of vertigo he was experiencing, and barely made it to the toilet adjacent to the bedroom.

Kirk kneeled in front of the toilet and tried to keep his eyes closed and stop the spinning sensation in his mind. He wiped his mouth and leaned on his hand over the bowl. It was difficult to control his breathing, even more so when Spock followed him into the bathroom, kneeled behind him, and wrapped his arms around Kirk's waist.

"Last time I was at a wedding where someone vomited, the bride was pregnant," Kirk stammered. "Speaking of which, I haven't talked to my brother in like, a month."

"Don't worry," Spock said, and Kirk liked to think the arms tightening around him was out of reassurance. "Close your eyes and clear your mind. Focus on one thing to orient yourself."

"I'm focusing on your voice -- keep talking. Wait, don't keep talking. Wait, keep talking. Okay -- shut up."

"I suggest you take your own advice; how can you focus on babbling _and_ on your shift in brain functions?"

Kirk inhaled and continued to keep his eyes closed and breathe deeply. Once he was physically under control, he decided to try and figure out what the rest of his brain was doing -- that part that was now permanently tied in to Spock.

"Wait, you used a contraction," Kirk said after a moment. "You said _don't_ worry."

"Is this really the time?"

"I'm going to add it to my scrapbook. Calligraphy and everything. Hold on, here comes lunch." Spock rubbed Kirk's back as he vomited again.

When he was done and began to gain control of his breathing again, Spock pulled Kirk against him. He leaned back against the wall of the bathroom and kept Kirk with him so they were sitting outstretched across the floor. "Now focus."

"It's _cold_."

"I feel the cold more acutely than you, and _I_ am not complaining." Spock pressed his hand over Kirk's eyes and pushed his head back so it rested against Spock's collarbone. "Relax. Orient yourself."

His brain would _not_ stop spinning. His mind was someone's living room after 20 shots of Romulan ale for his 20th birthday when that girl had pulled him to his feet and invited him for --

"Jim, it is _not_ the same," Spock said. "_Focus_."

"On _what_?"

"On _anything_ besides your drunken conquests of people who are not me."

Kirk focused on the hand still over his eyes, Spock's clammy hand that had been running over his back earlier, and pressed to his sweaty face for the meld, and the bond, and now created a sensory deprivation thing on his bathroom floor. He leaned his head back a little more against Spock, who had tensed. He rolled his neck slightly and pressed his head up against Spock's neck. It was becoming easier to relax.

"Focus," Spock repeated, gently this time.

"Okay," he exhaled.

That was the dizziness -- Kirk reached into his consciousness and wondered what he should focus on. He felt it was like moving into a new place and all the boxes had been unceremoniously dropped into the main room, and now they waited to be organized.

"This is why we arrange our bonds in childhood," Spock said. "I understand now."

"That bitch still around somewhere?" Kirk mumbled. She was, somewhere, he imagined he could picture her face, but it wasn't in the same way he could feel Spock's presence. No, she was just a memory. "Okay, let's keep the ex-girlfriends somewhere else."

"I hope you are aware that your moving metaphor is only a metaphor, Jim."

"Wish it weren't. I just want them to the back. What should I focus on?"

"Shall we attempt family?"

"Ha, yeah, let's think of our moms here while we're holding each other on the bathroom floor. That's fine. Let's."

Kirk instead thought of his father, the pictures and movies he had seen of him when he was young and the memories he had created of him in lieu of the real thing, or memories his brother had contributed. Sam claimed he could remember their father swinging him around in the air and his voice. Bullshit, he had been too young, but better than nothing.

"Did your father really look that similar to you?" Spock asked. "You have his eyes; you have all his features. Humans are rarely so identical to their parents as that."

"Or Vulcans. You look nothing like your dad -- no offense to Sarek, but you're way hotter. Let me see what your mom looked like -- yeah, you look like her."

"I resemble my father much more than I do her."

"Yeah, in the eyebrows and your goofy haircut, but you've got her pointy little chin. And her eyes. And that general aura of hot _damn_, Mrs. Sarek."

"I am certain my mother, Ms. Grayson if you will recall, would appreciate your compliments regarding her appearance."

"Can I just say I'm glad you're not a woman? I mean, those square fucking corsets or whatever -- how's _that_ logical on a planet with an atmosphere as thin as Vulcan's, where your ambassadorial house is already near the top of a goddamn mountain?"

"You have begun to use profanity again -- I take it that means you are slightly more oriented?"

"A little. Don't move your hand." Spock didn't, but shifted so he was no longer slouching and pulled Kirk up with him again. "Seriously, six days of this? Scotty's going to install a fucking food synthesizer in my chair after two."

"We have to become accustomed to each other like this." When he remembered their position on the bathroom floor in only their shorts, Spock added, "Perhaps not exactly like this."

"Are your eyes open? You should close them, too." The hand across Kirk's eyes had relaxed and the other hand began to stroke across his stomach gently. "Tell me about the first time you were in space."

"Tell you or show you?"

"Both." Kirk inhaled sharply at Spock's memory -- "You still remember everything on the ship being so huge; that's cute. How young were you?"

"We were visiting my mother's family for my sixth birthday. It was the first ship I had ever been on, my first time to Earth. It was..."

"Yeah. Yeah, I know. I didn't get off Earth until I was ten."

The arms around him tightened and Kirk felt relief, so much _relief_ that he didn't have to verbalize it; Tarsus IV was there in his mind, and Spock saw it as Kirk had seen it rather than just text in his file, and it would be, if not all right, then better.

"I need my own space," Kirk said, pulling Spock's hand off his eyes but lacing the fingers with his own. "How can I do that, or do I just have to wait for things to settle?"

"I am not sure," Spock replied. "We will ask my father tomorrow."

"Maybe we should have done this on New Vulcan. Stayed at his place. Had adult supervision." Kirk paused and looked up at Spock. "Did I just say that? Am I channeling you?"

"We agreed we would not have felt comfortable performing this anywhere but here."

Kirk rubbed his hand over Spock's for another moment, then said, "Let's move back to bed, okay? Try to, anyway. Fuck, this is taking a lot out of me -- what about you?"

"I can support you," Spock said as he helped Kirk up.

"That wasn't my question," Kirk replied. They stumbled back to bed and Kirk threw himself down, then clutched his head because it did _feel_ like every cell in his skull was swimming in some kind of soup. Kirk opened his eyes and saw Spock lay down next to him, facing him, and they settled into the bed, moving in a strange kind of unison. Heads on pillows, sheets and blanket pulled over them, they faced each other and Kirk saw the slightest, quickest glint of white teeth in Spock's mouth. "Yeah, me too."

*

Spock was startled awake and looked wildly around their quarters for the source of the music. It took him several seconds to realize it emanated from _Jim_, who was sound asleep with a slight smile on his face. He reclined again and stared at Kirk's face, wondering why in his sleep he hesitated rocking with that particular disc jockey if said jockey made him feel so nice. 

*

The next morning, they beamed directly to the transporter pad in the New Vulcan central government building where Sarek was waiting for them. Once they had materialized, Kirk promptly threw up on the pad.

"Yes, it took my wife 48 hours to move past the vomiting," Sarek replied in greeting. "Are you able to walk to my residence or shall we --"

"Please, walking," Kirk muttered.

"I recall," Sarek continued as they walked down the main vista of the city, "That due to the vomiting, much of her family believed we had already conceived Spock at the time of the ceremony."

"Earth tradition. Ancient Puritans. Judgmental fucks," Kirk replied.

"Indeed, Captain? Fascinating," Sarek said. "Spock, are you well?"

"I am healthy, Father."

"You sense no side effects of the bond? I should like to have it examined before you return to the ship."

"Jim is clearly not insane, Father --"

"No more than usual, right?" Kirk asked.

"-- therefore, the bond must have been successful."

"Wait, I could have gone insane?"

*

Once they entered the privacy of Sarek's residence, Kirk leaned on Spock heavily, the vertigo returning.

"The facilities are down the hall and to the right, Captain," Sarek informed him, to which Kirk nodded thankfully. He turned to Spock and said, "Do you have sufficient material to occupy yourself while I work with the captain?"

"Yes."

"You should not be in the same room with him while I train him in shielding. The mental interference during these initial hours is intensified by proximity."

"We have not noticed."

"Indeed," Sarek said, seemingly unaware of any possible sarcasm in Spock's comment, which was traditionally factual: a newly bonded couple would not spend more than minutes apart in those initial hours.

Kirk returned and leaned with false ease against a wall. "So. How's this gonna go?"

"First, Captain, you and I --"

"Father, _please_," Spock pleaded in a voice neither of them had heard before, "Call him _Jim_."

Spock saw a suppressed smile on Kirk's face, but was almost knocked over by the rushing pride of being defended. 

"Very well. Follow me to my study, Jim," Sarek said.

*

Close to an hour after arriving, Spock gave up on his attempts to meditate. There was too much interference from Kirk resonating through his mind, primarily in the form of intense anxiety and fear. He stood up and paced in the sitting room, occasional shudders causing him to pause and wonder what the _hell_ was going on.

*

"I can't do this," Kirk moaned. He had long left the chair Sarek had offered him and sat on the floor of the study, cross-legged, his hands clasped over his head and shielding him from invisible forces. "I can't, I can't, he told me what this would be like but I didn't know, and I can't _do this_. I can't, I can't." He had to control himself; he felt his breathing quicken and it was going to become hysteria in a second and McCoy wasn't there with a hypospray and no one on New Vulcan would have one for this sort of thing because they all had their fucking _shields_ and _control_ and _where was Spock_? 

"Sarek, I need him here, he's the only thing keeping me from going crazy, I mean, you said it yourself, maybe the bond wasn't done right, he's only half Vulcan, I know he's the best but this doesn't -- I need him, _please_."

"You must control yourself. Focus first on your most pressing biological responses: I suggest you begin with --"

"_He_ fucked up," Kirk replied. "He just dropped _all_ his fucking baggage in my fucking brain, and put his shields up, and he's been just _fine_ this whole time, and he never told me -- he didn't tell me it would be like this, that I'd be here with my brain fucked beyond repair and he's just not even _here_, I mean, what the fuck is that?"

"I advised him to stay elsewhere while we worked," Sarek said in his usual neutral tone, as if Kirk wasn't nearly curled in the fetal position on his floor. "Your physical proximity would affect his shields and --"

"So _let it_," Kirk snapped, almost snarling as he dug his fingernails into the base of his skull. The physical pain brought him somewhat back to himself and he began to breathe deeply and slowly.

"Tell me what you feel."

"What do I _feel_?" Kirk asked. He was about to begin shouting, listing thoughts as they were conceived, but took several deep breaths to stop himself. "I feel like I'm being watched. He's there, he's watching me, and he's going to be until I die. Watching and _evaluating_, and judging, and being so fucking _arrogant_ like _all_ Vulcans, and I'd be his little lab rat that he gets to fuck so he doesn't die, and he'll think I'm funny for all the wrong reasons, and when we're in a tight spot and I think of that thing that'll save our lives, he'll see how fucking random it is when I'm smart. He's going to see how stupid I am, how bad my taste in music is, how much I _hate_ museums and diplomats --"

"Surely these are things Spock was aware of before you bonded."

"Not like this," Kirk said, still breathing heavily. "Not like -- he woke up today thinking about the bad 21st century pop music in my head, and I know he loves Beethoven but I can't fucking stand that shit." Kirk sat up straight and braced himself with his palms and fingers digging into the rug on either side of him. "He laughs at me and that's going to be there. In my head. All the time. Until I die. The _only_ person whose respect I've _ever_ wanted is going to be watching me fuck up every day of my life."

"When I made an offer of marriage to my late wife," Sarek began after a lengthy pause, and it was the subject that made Kirk look up and try to focus on his face, "We were on the northeast balcony of Starfleet Headquarters, which overlooks the bay. As is traditional on Earth, I had purchased a ring for her should she accept my offer." Kirk watched Sarek break eye contact and look at some point near the window before he added, "A ring which I did not realize was too large for her finger and which she promptly slipped on, and then dropped into the bay."

"Okay, thanks, so --"

"My son is also not perfect," Sarek added. "At the age of 15, he miscalculated an equation, which led to the evacuation of his school and my generous donation to repair the laboratory he destroyed." Kirk thought he saw something around the corners of Sarek's eyes as he spoke, though he didn't glance Kirk's way anymore. "Before he left for Starfleet, he took the summer holiday as an opportunity to remind his mother and myself that he was an adult, fully capable of self-sustenance, and promptly broke his arm while customizing the synthesizer."

"You shouldn't be telling me this," Kirk said, unable to hide his chagrin. "This is just the sort of shit I don't want him to know about me."

"Perhaps not," Sarek replied, "But you have begun to breathe regularly again under your body's own automatic power, and that is progress."

*

When the door of Sarek's study opened, Kirk stepped out and saw Spock sitting across from the doorway meditating. At the sound of the door, Spock looked up and they rushed at each other shamelessly. Sarek led them to their room, informed them he had plans that evening and would not return until the next day but could be reached if necessary, and left with the confidence that they had not heard him and would not need him.

"What were you so afraid of?" Spock asked when they were alone. "What did my father say to you? Have you learned --"

Kirk pressed his forehead to Spock's in a completely superfluous motion and said, very quietly, "Lower your shields."

*

Kirk's mind was as chaotic as ever, but without the shields Spock experienced the _totality_ of Jim, more than he had during any meld because of the solid, encompassing connection. It was too much all at once, and so Spock thought to explore systemtically.

"Show me our first meeting," he said, expecting the Starfleet hearing. 

Instead, he saw himself entering the rec room on board the Enterprise and sitting down at the three-dimensional chess board. "I should warn you, Captain," he saw himself say to Kirk, "I was awarded the title of Grandmaster by the Federation's official chess organization."

"Yeah," Kirk said, "I would have competed, but I was busy having sex that weekend. Black or white?"

"White. May I ask with whom?"

Kirk tapped his fingers and said coolly, "Sure, but I don't have to answer."

"I only ask, Captain, because you imply that your time was better invested than mine. Clearly, if that is the case, you would at least remember the individual's name."

"That's pretty forward of you, Mr. Spock!" Kirk replied. "And a good point, but we obviously have different value systems that aren't going to be reconciled over one game of chess, maybe not even over a thousand."

Spock moved a knight, raised an eyebrow, and said, "That almost sounded like diplomacy."

Kirk in the memory beamed and Spock was too taken aback to request another particular moment; the result was that Kirk's memories began running through every interaction he had ever had with Spock. Playing through their minds were Kirk's memories of moments on the bridge, glances, touches, kisses, trips down to planets, separating, reuniting, hostage situations, hearings, shore leave, even moments where Spock wasn't actually present but something reminded Kirk of him -- half an avocado in the shape of his ear or a dog with a fur color pattern above one eye that looked like a pointed eyebrow. "Stop, slow down," Spock gasped somewhere, everywhere.

Suddenly he saw a familiar planet, a dusty, orange one. There was Kirk shooting his phaser from next to a rock formation, his body covering Spock's as he shot and shouted into his communicator. "Dammit, Enterprise! Scotty, get your fucking ass to the transporter room --"

"Captain, we're working to bring you up -- just give me --"

"I _can't_ give you anything!" Kirk screamed. "Beam us up or I will fucking throw you and everyone you know out of an airlock, do you fucking hear me? Do I have to -- "

The transporter room was a blur as medical pushed Kirk off Spock and whisked him away. Kirk stood up, let his phaser fall to the ground, and was about to rush to sickbay when Scotty stepped out from behind the console and blocked Kirk's way.

"Captain," he began, attempting to catch Kirk's eye as he spoke, "I think I speak for everyone you've shouted at during this mission when I say -- you're a good captain. You're smart, bold, all the things a captain should be. But if you ever get it into your pretty head again that threatening anyone when we're doing our damnedest is going to get you results, then you can bet I'll put in for a transfer and report you to Starfleet. I know I'm not the only one." It was the most Scotty had ever said at one time to anyone on the Enterprise, and possibly his entire life.

Kirk seemed to snap out of his panic and swallowed slowly. "Sorry -- I'm sorry," he said, swallowing again as he held out his arms. He looked down at himself, the yellow and charcoal grey of his uniform plastered in various shades of drying green blood. "He was hurt so bad," Kirk said in a low, distant voice. "I'm sorry."

"Go on," Scotty said, even offering a touch on the shoulder, "I'll get the con.".

Then their first kiss-and-then-some -- about 11 months into their mission, a flu had confined a third of the crew to quarters and Kirk and Spock took on various other duties, including mechanics, while they traveled to a starbase. They went into one of the shuttles to repair a faulty plug and after two hours huddled together under the console, Spock was shoving a bundle of dangling wires out of his face while also trying to comb his fingernails through Kirk's hair -- for about 10 seconds, as he then yanked the wires out of the console and threw them over his shoulder to better focus on Kirk underneath him. It was illogical, downright _stupid_, and delighted Kirk endlessly.

And all the _missions_ -- all the would-be murderers, the sycophantic leaders pawning their children off on them in exchange for Federation protection, the flora they never quite learned to avoid, the planetary oddities they brought back to the ship that turned everything upside down, the ion storms, the Klingons and Romulans, the attempted espionage, McCoy's lectures, Spock's eyebrows, Chekov bringing original sin to a planet once --

And all the private moments -- so unlike Kirk, but his mind had perfectly ordered them from the first glare at the Starfleet hearing to Spock's eyelids as they slowly closed when Kirk had said, "Lower your shields" seconds or weeks ago. Spock never realized there was a twisting in Kirk's stomach whenever he spun in his chair to look at the science station and saw the point of his sideburns, the blue of his shirt and, occasionally, Spock's eyes already glancing at him. 

_Don't get scared of how much I like you_, Kirk had said almost a year ago. It wasn't 'how much' he liked Spock, but how much of his mind was occupied and tinted by Spock before they had bonded -- there were real memories and created ones, like what would happen when they died or their mission ended.

(They would be in one of the labs, frustrated by a project that they just _couldn't_ get a handle on, like their own version of the cloaking device that the Klingons were developing, supposedly. Then something would occur to Kirk and he would be distant for a week, avoiding Spock socially and only coming to bed when he had to sleep. Then:

"I have an idea," Kirk would say. "Hear me out. We have x months left in this mission. Let's come up with proposals to Starfleet and the Vulcan Science Academy for this cloaking device thing. They sponsor it, you take a leave of absence -- maybe a year or two. You can teach again -- you liked phonology and you never get to use that here -- and in your spare time, work on the cloaking device. I'll be on the Enterprise, testing out your theories. You can be on New Vulcan and we'll arrange with Starfleet to keep the Enterprise in that system. We'll run little missions or whatever; I won't be away more than two months at a time. I hope. What do you say?"

And it would break Kirk's heart when Spock considered it carefully, proclaimed it logical, and go through with it. They would see each other, shore leaves would be amazing, the cloaking device would be perfected, they would be lauded and written into curricula of the future, Spock would get his ass back on the Enterprise, and they'd be _set_. They'd have two years to realize how much they wanted, not needed, each other -- that they genuinely cared for one another and hadn't just fallen into bed because pickings were slim. Then they'd go galaxy hop some more -- with their awesome cloaking device! -- and they would never get hurt again, and there would be decades of being awesome together and exploring new everythings.)

Or if they ever became parents. (On a mission, they would come across orphans and deliver them to a colony, but one would be too amazing to let go -- a longish-haired clever boy with clear, emoting eyes like Spock's and an easy grin like Kirk's -- and somehow they'd keep him. They'd argue with everyone because theoretically, it was stupid -- the stupidest thing they had _ever_ done after falling irreparably in love with each other. 

Except then everyone would see that kid running down a corridor and onto the bridge, climbing all over Spock; maybe they'd be one of those families that sat for portraits to hang in their quarters.)

(Maybe they'd be a family with a home that wasn't a starship, but even Kirk wasn't that sentimental except on days when the warp engine crapped out or his grilled cheese sandwich tasted like adhesive.)

*

Kirk was tired of Vulcan understatement. For one thing, when bonding was first explained to him in terms of logistics, it sounded great: a permanent sort of mind meld, the ultimate in intimacy and communication, and it wouldn't interfere with the careers he and Spock were carving for themselves in Starfleet. 

Instead, Kirk got 18 hours of his brain put through a fucking turbine, and then those fantastic six hours with Sarek when he knew, really _knew_, that he had made the biggest mistake of his life -- for fuck's _sake_, it was hard enough controlling his mouth and now even his thoughts weren't his own.

But there was Spock, quiet in the back of his head, more than a little worried about him, oblivious to the screaming doubt because he backed the hell off and let Kirk deal with his issues on his own -- that was when it clicked. Just because they had the opportunity to spy on each other all the time didn't mean they should, and other shit like that. It was almost mature.

Of course, Spock didn't bond to this mature James Kirk. That was becoming clear as Kirk explored Spock's memories and oh, that Vulcan understatement -- 

Spock's earliest memory of Kirk was, of course, the _Kobayashi Maru_ test -- _not_ the hearing after he finally beat it, but the very first time he took the exam. Kirk grinned when he remembered it and when he saw how Spock remembered it. Kirk had managed to destroy the _Kobayashi Maru_ and his own ship, and when his crew in the simulator lay flattened on the ground, he slammed his fist against the captain's chair. Cadets had done that before.

However, Kirk was the first cadet to get out of the chair, look up at the two-way mirror, and scream at the proctors, "Now what the _fuck_ was that?! How was _that_ fair? _How was I supposed to beat that?_" It was the policy of those running the scenario to avoid direct communication with cadets in the simulator, and Kirk had to be dragged out by McCoy after the first half-dozen profanities. 

The second attempt went a little better: Kirk destroyed one warbird, deployed escape pods, and then drove his ship into a warbird -- or tried to, except his helmsman died en route and his ship collided with the _Kobayashi Maru_.

"Captain's log," Kirk said calmly as the simulator room sizzled, the viewscreens showed only static, and his crew was again all over the floor. "Stardate: who gives a shit. Failed to save crew of USS _Kobayashi Maru_ for second time; starting to think those morons should stop wandering into the neutral zone and getting my crew killed. Will submit comprehensive report to Starfleet Command once I've broken in my afterlife harem. Kirk out."

Spock might have passed him that second time (until the facetious captain's log, Kirk had maintained impressive control of his crew, ship, and dignity) if Kirk hadn't stood on the captain's chair immediately afterwards and announced to the entire observation deck what they could do with their test.

For Kirk, exploring Spock's memories of him and their relationship almost bordered on painful and absurd, as everything had a tinge of repression and shame. The first time Spock had touched Kirk without intent to knock him unconscious (when their first engineering ensign died on a planet-side mission), his hand lingered on Kirk's shoulder and Kirk felt comforted, while Spock felt... had _felt_. There was no use telling himself about studies that proved the effectiveness of physical contact in comforting humans; there was feeling in that touch he couldn't openly admit to or deny.

Kirk felt the shame return when they were becoming friends: Spock knew he was spending too much frivolous off-duty time with Kirk, chatting about the ship, their missions, the crew, experiences at Starfleet, and so Spock spent more of his time devising independent projects. Kirk found him out and Spock had been dismayed at how well they worked together, how passionate Kirk could be about knowledge and science when it interested him, and that was the end -- Kirk was his match. There was no way around it. He would have to follow him to the ends of the universe and back again. All paths that could have led to a house on New Vulcan, a comfortable job at the VSA, a wife and child of his own, some future without Jim: they were gone.

That was what he meant by Vulcan understatement -- one night, Spock had finally manned up and (unforgettably) asked Kirk to join him for "a private outing that could commence the development of a non-platonic facet to our relationship". Kirk didn't know that the _asking_ was Spock's resignation from a logical, traditional Vulcan life at a time when his species needed it, and had no idea that laughing in his face and kissing his cheek ("I'm not that easy, buddy, no matter what anyone tells you") essentially fixed it: for Spock, there would be no one else.

*

"Fuck," Kirk whispered. They both opened their eyes, coming back to Sarek's house on New Vulcan, looking at each other in completely different lights.

"Yes?" Spock asked.

Almost eight years ago, Kirk had been thrown on a table in some bar in Iowa, punched into a fine pulp, and known it was just another Saturday night. How the fuck did he _get_ here? It was something he asked himself frequently, but now he had dragged someone along with him.

"I'm starving," Kirk said. They were still standing close together. Kirk rested his head on Spock's shoulder and focused on raising his mental shields, like Sarek had tried to show him. "Is that working? Am I still driving you crazy?"

"Yes, your shield is effective; no, I have not yet tired of your presence."

He was only 29; Spock was only 30. What the _fuck_ had they done?

*

Four days later, they were back on the Enterprise. McCoy had checked on them when they returned from New Vulcan, satisfied that they were both biologically sound, though looking a bit too conspiratorial and sly for having returned from a routine visit to a Federation colony.

"Which no one's going to believe, by the way," McCoy had told them. "Do you plan on _ever_ telling your crew?"

"Not their problem," Kirk replied. "Not anyone's problem but ours."

"It is hardly a 'problem', Jim," Spock said.

"I didn't mean _problem_," Kirk sighed. "You know what I mean." Spock tilted his head slightly and Kirk threw his hands up for emphasis.

McCoy laughed and congratulated them because he hadn't believed until just then that they had actually gone through with it.

Later that day, they entered the mess in the middle of Beta shift's dinner hour and were instantly the focus of 250 pairs of eyes (give or take what felt like a trillion more).

"We're baaaaaack," Kirk announced before sitting down. "Glad to see we're still in orbit and haven't been sold to Klingons. Or have we?"

Uhura said something _in_ Klingon and the 10 people who got the joke laughed. Spock nodded in acknowledgement to the crew and sat next to Kirk at their usual table with most of the bridge crew.

"So how was New Vulcan?" Uhura asked. "Did you get to see your father, Spock?"

"I did. He is well."

"And what did you think of the colony, Captain?" Chekov asked. "What did Starfleet ask you to evaluate?"

"Oh, well. You know. The usual. Ratio of babies to adults, how the VSA is measuring up compared to the Academy, rebuilding, that sort of thing. But enough about us!" Kirk stopped slouching and grinned at everyone around the table. "Catch us up on the ship's gossip. We want to know _everything_." We. Us. Had he done that before the bond? "Well, I do, anyway. I think Spock's just happy we're still in orbit."

"I have already reviewed the logs made in our absence; no situations or anomalies reported from any department."

"You really don't want to know if Sulu finally took that ensign of yours to see his botanic garden?" Kirk asked lecherously.

"Oh, that's over, sir," Sulu replied. "Now it's Angie in command. Uh, command yellow. You know. Department-wise."

"I had been led to believe," Spock interrupted, "That Earth tradition holds the custom of 'give and take' when discussing gossip and the sexual prowess of individuals. Therefore, should you wish to know the details of the personal lives of your crew, you will be expected to stoop to their level and share your own experiences."

"Stoop to our level?" McCoy asked carefully.

Kirk took a moment and then smiled at Spock. "You're probably right, Mr. Spock."

"Oh, come on," Scotty interrupted. "You're saying you went off the ship for a week and didn't once send a message to that lieutenant in biometrics? The one you flirt with constantly! Heather, I think."

"We don't _flirt_," Kirk laughed. "When does talking equate flirting, Scotty? Are _we_ flirting right now?"

"If you play your cards right, Captain," Scotty replied, raising his eyebrow.

Everyone at the table laughed except Kirk (who smiled with his mouth closed), McCoy (who glanced between Kirk and Spock), and Spock (who was shifting from indifferent to annoyed very slowly but surely).

"Actually," Chekov said when they had calmed down, "We -- we on the bridge -- we thought you had gone down with Mr. Spock to get married."

Kirk spit his drink all over the table. "_What_?" 

"No, no Captain, please, not that -- the phrase -- to get _him_ married? To marry him to a woman, I mean! A Vulcan --" Chekov gave up and rested his head on Uhura's shoulder, while she laughed and pat him on the back.

"We thought that, since you two were being kind of secretive before you left," she said, "That it was something big. And since you were going to New Vulcan, well." She gave a tiny smile and then said, "But don't worry, I told them that was impossible because if you _were_ involved in something like that, you wouldn't be able to keep your mouth shut. We would have had strippers by the shuttle-full before you left."

"You're right," Kirk said. "If Spock had married a Vulcan woman, all of you would know. And you'd definitely hear it from me." Kirk tried drinking from his glass again, but felt a very real nudge in the back of his mind -- warning him. He looked at Spock and gave him a smirk. Spock only nodded in return. "Now would someone tell me what happened on the damn ship while we were gone? Tell me how much my girl missed me."

*

"It's so quiet," Sulu remarked during Kirk's first shift back. 

"Yes," Chekov said a long moment later. "It is."

Their eyes slowly turned to Kirk, sitting in his chair, chin propped on his hand, reading from a PADD silently.

"Yes, Captain, this is our first Class T planet," Spock said.

"He didn't ask," Sulu remarked.

"... I asked him earlier," Kirk commented after a moment of silence. "Thanks, Spock. Let me know when you get the newest readings on its core, okay?"

"Of course, Captain."

"It's only been a week," Sulu whispered to Chekov. "What did we all talk about before they left?"

"I can't remember," Chekov replied. "It was always the captain arguing with someone -- perhaps because Dr. McCoy is not here to fight with Spock and the captain."

"He also hasn't told Uhura anything about her boots," Sulu said, "And they're definitely higher than regulation. They're mid-thigh, Chekov, and he hasn't looked _once_."

"Stop talking about my boots," Uhura said across the bridge.

"What about your boots?" Kirk asked absently. He turned in his chair, smirked at Spock, and then looked to Uhura.

"Nothing, Captain," she said. "Just Sulu being --"

"They're nice," he said as he noticed them. "Cool boots."

"Okay, what was that?" Chekov whispered to Sulu. "That is not right. I think the doctor must know now."

McCoy came to the bridge of his own volition within the hour and took his usual place to Kirk's left. "How's it feel to be back?"

"How's it supposed to feel?" Kirk asked. "Feels great, as usual. Though my ass groove is a little out of it."

"What about your ass?"

"My _groove_. In the _chair_. The indentation," Kirk laughed.

"Just checking," McCoy said. "So what's this new mission? Am I being dragged down to the planet this time?"

"It's a gas giant, so no one's going down," Kirk replied. "Except in a shuttle, I mean. We're taking samples; someone at Starfleet thinks there's a unique compound in its atmosphere that we need to be able to make synthetically."

"Surprise, surprise. Why do we need nature at _all_ when we have Starfleet labs," McCoy grumbled.

"Doctor, if you left _everything_ up to nature rather than engaging your humanoid ingenuity, there is little doubt in my mind you would have ever left the treetops," Spock replied.

"Here we go," Sulu said excitedly, turning his chair slightly for a better view behind him.

As quickly as it had started, Spock cleared his throat and said, "I apologize for the outburst, Doctor. It was uncalled for." Spock turned to the rest of the bridge and everyone turned back to their stations to avoid his look. "Captain, I have the latest readings on the atmosphere at my station, particularly on the compound we are investigating. You may better examine them on the console rather than on your PADD."

Kirk made his way over to Spock's station with none of his usual hurry. His hands were on his hips as Spock pulled up various charts and diagrams. Chekov saw his opportunity and waved McCoy to his station.

"Doctor, I believe they are ill," he whispered. "They have not been themselves since they returned."

"What makes you say that?" McCoy asked.

"Please, stay on the bridge. You will see. They do not talk to each other, or anyone else; the captain does not play games or make comments on Uhura's shoes --"

"He said they were _nice_," Sulu said. "He looked at her black leather thigh-high boots with five-inch heels and said _cool boots_. Does that sound like the captain?"

"That _is_ strange -- for Jim. I'll talk to him, all right?"

"And Mr. Spock," Chekov said. "I am concerned for him, too."

"And Spock, of course."

*

"Boys, hate to tell you this --"

"You are only five and six years our elder, Doctor; it is not necessary to call us by a diminutive," Spock interrupted.

"I'll call you anything I damn well please, you pointy-eared jerk."

McCoy watched Spock's eyes narrow slightly, his lips tighten, and then his expression calmed down instantly. 

"What did you wish to tell us, Doctor?" he asked.

"Okay, now what was that?"

"Bones, would you spit it out already?" Kirk asked.

"I called him a pointy-eared jerk and he didn't respond! What the hell's changed now that you're bonded?"

"_Everything_," they replied in unison.

"Particularly that I sense faint reverberations of Jim's displeasure when we argue, Doctor," Spock replied. "I am endeavoring to curb this behavior in order to avoid paining Jim."

"Well _stop it_," McCoy snapped. "Everyone on the bridge knows something's up because both of you are completely different."

"No we're not," Kirk laughed.

"Yes you are. _Chekov_ of all people _pulled me aside_ and said he was worried because you weren't chattering like a goddamn parrot anymore and stopped hitting on Uhura. And _Spock_ won't fight with me." McCoy began pacing and added, "Never mind that I was up there for an hour today and you barely said four words to each other! It was like a tomb!"

"The spoken word is superfluous in many cases, Doctor --"

"Not when you're trying to convince 500 people you're not married."

"Would you look at that," Kirk said as a grin spread across his face. "Leonard McCoy wants _me_ to talk more."

"I _immediately_ regret this decision," McCoy sighed.

*

Kirk got Spock's attention during their next shared shift on the bridge. "Which of your ensigns are you planning on sending in the shuttle to gather the atmospheric samples?" They turned in their chairs to look at each other as they spoke.

"As it is a fairly routine procedure, I planned on attending the matter myself," Spock replied.

"Since it's so routine, why don't you let one of them get in some practice?"

Conflict would never, ever not be fun, Kirk decided.

"It sounds as though you have a particular ensign in mind," Spock said. He left his station and approached the captain's chair, standing straight-backed and looking down at Kirk, his left hand firmly clasping his right wrist behind his back. "Should I bother informing he or she of their assignment, or do you wish to do so personally?" he asked quietly.

"I was thinking of Brian," Kirk said quite casually.

"Ensign Allen?" Spock asked. "Captain, he has destroyed the equivalent of one full laboratory in the course of his duties since embarking with us six weeks ago, and you wish to --"

"Expand the parameters of your logic for like, ten seconds, Spock --"

"_You_ wish to lecture _me_ on _logic_, Captain?" Spock asked in careful, barely restrained tones.

"You're looking at it like we need to keep him away from precious things because he's just going to fuck them up; _I_ don't want anyone to serve on this ship and stagnate, which is what'll happen if you don't push this kid. Or he'll cry himself to death the next time you look at him."

"The good of the ensign outweighs the good of your shuttlecraft and the equipment on it?"

"Fuck yeah, Spock."

It took Spock five more seconds before he nodded. "I believe you are right."

"I'm always right."

"I will make sure to note, in extensive detail, your contribution on my report of this assignment."

Kirk grinned at him broadly enough for the both of them. "Your thinly veiled threats are so _hot_, Mr. Spock."

Spock raised an eyebrow and the bridge crew collective, which had been listening with relief to the return of their familiar bickering, laughed.

*

Eventually, it became clear to them how the bond thing was supposed to work: a little metaphorical (but strangely literal) door in the back of each of their skulls that they could open whenever, just to pop in and say 'Remember, you're everything to me' or 'Your fly is open'. It was huge, but also strangely casual. They didn't, couldn't live there all the time.

And then their next diplomatic mission happened. Spock stayed in command as some hilarious nod to regulations -- really it was to test the bond since it looked to be the usual c'mon-join-the-Federation song-and-dance down on the planet (which the artistic souls in stellar cartography had named 'Omega Scorpius I' against Kirk's suggestion of 'Kirktopia', capital city, country, and continent 'Tiberia').

It took days to make arrangements because everyone on the planet appeared to have collectively shit themselves at what must have been their third or fourth contact with alien species -- finally, though, they were ready to receive Kirk, Uhura, Heather the biometricist, and some security detail.

"Take care of my baby," Kirk said as he stepped on the transporter pad. 

"Thank you, Captain, I will endeavor to preserve myself in your absence," Spock replied.

"Wait," Uhura stammered. "Spock, did you just make a joke to the captain that was distinctly homoerotic in nature?"

"Did you find the climax humorous?" he asked.

"In this particular context where our captain fetishizes his ship to an almost worrisome degree, I suppose it would --"

"Then I suppose I made a joke."

"Nyota, our baby's growing up," Kirk sighed.

"Don't call me that."

"Energize!"

*

Spock, when left in command, chose to pace around the bridge slowly to check all the consoles and sit only occasionally in the captain's chair. On the main viewscreen blinked the landing party's vital statistics. It was distracting to see the slight jumps in Kirk's pulse and blood pressure, especially when Spock attempted to create scenarios to explain those changes: the initial one, of course, for meeting their hosts; perhaps the next had been in viewing the capital city or government buildings; the latest one could be the foreign food or drink served to them.

Of course, he could _ask_. As soon as he considered that, Spock heard a thought from Kirk.

_Things just got weird._

Spock's eyes glanced to the vitals monitor, which showed no deviation from normal.

_First Leader Masaak introduced us to his family, but we're not eating with them. Dining room has our landing party, Masaak, his second and third in command, and ten guards around the room -- also a lot of guards when we were walking in, at least a hundred around the compound._

_I agree that appears suspicious. You are the tactician, Jim. What are your orders?_

_Just be on alert; they're probably more scared of us than we are of them. Uhura's speaking to them in some kind of dialect from another Omega system, and they seem pleasant enough._

Spock sat in the captain's chair and paged engineering. "Mr. Scott, please report to the transporter room and await orders from myself or the captain."

"Aye, Mr. Spock. Scott out."

"Mr. Spock," Sulu asked, "Are you seeing something we're not? I don't see any abnormal readings."

It was still difficult for Spock to remember that silent conversations with Kirk, particularly when he was not in the same room, did not count towards the general atmosphere of the particular room he was in. The bridge had been completely silent except for mechanical processes until he had paged Scotty.

"Occasionally, Mr. Sulu, it is the lack of deviations that point to a necessary course of action," Spock replied. "In this case, the captain's vitals have remained remarkably steady for close to 15 minutes. Either their meeting with the officials has gone well and they expect to return soon, or the captain has fallen asleep in the middle of supper."

"So I should keep my eye out for deviations and... for no deviations," Sulu said slowly.

"You should be evaluating and re-evaluating the information and its context continually. Ensign Birch," Spock called over his shoulder to engineering ensign on duty, "Are you able to switch to a video feed of the facility where the landing party was escorted?" Until then, they had been scanning the surface of the planet for the cartographers on board.

"I can get you an outside visual, Mr. Spock."

"That will be satisfactory, thank you, Ensign."

A third of the main viewscreen displayed an overhead view of the building the landing party had entered. The room watched the feed carefully, no one more carefully than Spock. 

"Ensign, could you show me a more expansive view of the city outside the compound?" When the view was expanded, Spock pointed out a bright section that appeared to be moving. The collective crew leaned towards the screen to confirm what they saw.

"Are those..." Sulu began.

"Torches and pitchforks?" Chekov finished.

"The hell?" Sulu asked.

"They have greatly misrepresented their planet's overall willingness to make alien contact," Spock said. "Or it is part of an indigenous agricultural festival which coincides precisely with the initial visit of a Federation vessel, the odds of which are 13,938,345 to one."

_I believe you to be in danger. There appears to be a violent mob heading towards the compound where you are situated. We are ready to beam you on board -- I will give you three minutes to conclude your meeting._

"Mr. Scott," Spock said into the intercom. "Beam the landing party back in two minutes and thirty seconds. Are you able to lock onto them?"

"The planet's got no shields or atmospheric interference at that point, sir; it'll be easy as pie."

*

Spock was in the transporter room when the landing party returned. Kirk walked off the pad and grinned at Spock. 

"Pitchforks, you said?"

Spock handed over his PADD and played the feed's recordings for the landing party. They all agreed: pitchforks!

"That's amazing," Uhura said as she watched the video. "Their leaders are very pro-Federation; maybe we'll be back in a few years when the rest of them are ready."

"Seriously, pitchforks," Kirk said. He looked at Spock and gave him a strange smile that was almost... unhappy.

"Is everything all right, Captain?" he asked.

"Felt a little like cheating."

"Wait, what did?" Uhura asked, the only one of the landing party left in the transporter room, besides Kirk.

Kirk and Spock's eyes widened almost imperceptibly, but Kirk turned around to face Uhura. He grinned and scratched his right ear. "So, uh, we're... testing something new."

"Jim --" Spock began.

"Someone at Starfleet developed it," Kirk continued. "A transmitter chip that's implanted into the ear canal, kind of like your earpiece but only for one-to-one conversations. I've got one in now. Spock was listening to us, and I was listening in on Spock."

Uhura looked to Spock for some kind of confirmation, which he refused to give. Kirk turned around and looked at him placidly. Spock had picked up many, many, _many_ human habits since joining Starfleet, most of them since beginning his relationship with Kirk, but lying was still not one of them. Kirk knew that, and smiled a little as he spoke. "Isn't it right that we've been testing out a one-to-one open channel for the past couple of weeks?"

"We have," Spock replied with some reluctance.

"Luckily I've got controls to turn it off when we're not on duty," Kirk added to Uhura. "I left it on one night -- you wouldn't _believe_ what this guy likes to sing in the shower."

"Well, I'm glad it ended with us beaming back on board before being brutally murdered," Uhura replied. "If you'll excuse me, I should get ready for our debriefing session."

She left, as did Kirk and Spock, but they went in the opposite direction to a different turbolift. 

"She did not believe that," Spock remarked.

"I think that was pretty good for being put on the spot. I'm not telling anyone until we're retired admirals on some lazy planet with white sands," Kirk replied.

"And when she attempts to confirm your story via our projects list on the server?"

"I'll make up a confidential folder with some playlists to take up space."

"Playlists?"

"Music. Like that song I was thinking of the other morning."

"Yes, I am quite familiar with it now."

They entered the turbolift and as the doors slid closed, Kirk burst into song, effectively trapping Spock in a coffin of obnoxious sound for the next 12.4 seconds -- a fair representation of what he had bonded with.

**Author's Note:**

> The song that comes up once or twice is Robbie Williams' Rock DJ. Now you know Kirk's secret shame!


End file.
